Hundreds of thousands of waterfowl passed over the patch of the Big Sioux river where I sat this morning. When the dawn arrived rather ho-hum, I went down to see what might be happening. There is little color this time of year--Farch--as some call it; but the sky loaded with geese, hundreds of thousands, most of them way up somewhere beyond my lens.
The incredible treat of the morning was loons. They're wonderful, but I never guessed they'd mosey anywhere near this flatland prairie. Nonetheless, there they were--five of them came ambling along, disappearing every once in a while, up to their usual hijinks, just as if they were back home on some winsome Minnesota lake. What a blessing.
Hawks, crows, eagles, hundreds of ducks, and thousands of geese, and a half dozen loons--just about all of them on the move. I wish I could have recorded the melodies, although a few jackass woodpeckers would have almost spoiled it with their incessant percussion.
It's always reassuring to know that we aren't alone, the myriad creatures all around (must have seen a couple dozen deer this morning) simply doing their thing as if there were no economic crisis at all.
A sweet Saturday morning.